Seppuku
by Skandron
Summary: Raphael attempts to deal with a pain so crushing it threatens to shatter him.  Grim Short story.  Complete.   -Written to deal with personal tragedy.


Self explanatory title. Grim-read alert.

Seppuku

The night was cold. Frost curled around Raphael's face. His fingers and toes were numb. He'd been standing here for hours, just staring at the city. The moon hung bright and bold in the sky, sharp as a blade against the darkness.

Leo ... Leo was gone.

It made no sense. His world had slipped from reality. Confusion reigned. The moon shone, the stars glimmered, the world continued to move around him. It was wrong. Life shouldn't keep on like nothing had happened. The world should stop. The cars, the people, the world should stagger and just ... stop. He should stop. But he didn't. Somehow, his heart was still beating heavily in his chest, his guts churned, his jaw ached against clenched teeth and the cold forced goosebumps to prickle along his skin. He continued to live in spite of the shattering of his world ...

_Leo is dead._

How could that be? Leo? Leo was gone. He couldn't understand it. Couldn't wrap his head around it. It just couldn't be. He had always been there, from when they were kids scooting around in the muck of the sewers, to just yesterday when they'd all sparred. Raph still had the bruise on his forearm from blocking a fierce kick. That was real. It was proof Leo shouldn't be gone. How could he be gone when he was only just alive? Nothing should be powerful enough to erase that presence. Leo was always there. He was ALWAYS there ... It was one of the most solid facts in his life. That knowing, confident presence. How could it suddenly be gone?

_Big brother?_

Raph distantly felt a burning sensation. Tears. He was crying, the tears burning his eyes, down his cheeks. He squeezed his traitorous eyes shut. He didn't want to feel. Didn't want to be weak and cry. Crying would mean it was real, that he'd accepted it.

_No!_

And yet, some questions demanded his attention.

_How do I tell them? _

How could he look his father in the eyes and tell him his favourite son, his star pupil would never bow to him again? Would never spar? Never tell Raph off for being reckless or laugh at Mikey's jokes or praise Don's latest gizmo-?

In his hands he held Leo's swords. One was still dull, rusty with Leo's blood. He hadn't cleaned it after wrenching it from the still form. His hands curled around the bloody blade until the intense slice of pain and the warm slide of blood across his fingers seemed to balance the agonized pressure in his chest. The confusion was like a thick fog between him and reality and yet he feared to penetrate the haze, because beneath it was a depth of pain more horrifying than anything he'd felt in his life. He couldn't face it, not yet. It might drive him mad. He stuggled to hold it in.

He did what he needed to do. There would be no note and no body.

His family deserved to see him one last time, to say goodbye, but he wouldn't let them. If they saw Leo they'd understand ... Leo hadn't been killed by Karai as he would tell them. He had killed himself. Stabbed himself through the sternum, carving the tough outer plastron with a powerful lateral slice across the abdomen. He'd died a samurai's death ... seppuku in the dark grime of the sewers with only the rats and the roaches to witness his pain, his weakness and his strength.

_Why? WHY? Why him of all people? He deserved so much better ... why did he do this? How could he? How could he leave us? Where we that bad? Is it my fault? It must be._

Raphael had stumbled upon Leo in the dark. At first he thought Leo was meditating, which was odd, because they were out in the middle of nowhere and Leo was kneeling in the dirt, his head lolling forward onto his chest. But ... he was still, too still. Rising, ominous dread. His own screaming echo of horror and denial. He'd stared at that too-still form for an age, absolutely terrified of that stillness. But no matter how long he stood there, Leo didn't move. He didn't breathe. He didn't un-die. Ragged. Lost. Drenched in clotted blood and half bent over the sword still wedged to the hilt in his plastron. For a human, Raph supposed the damage would have seemed worse. The plastron held his brothers organs in, despite the rending internal damage that had killed him.

But worst, was the rats. Uncaring of the greater meaning, they were scuttling, hungry. Nibbling fingers, already gnawing into the eye sockets. It was those empty, ragged black holes that haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes for the rest of his life he knew he would see them staring back at him. No. He wouldnt let Mikey see that. Nor Don, nor Splinter. And the note? It was apologetic, formal and the words were burned into his brain even as he burned the blotched sheet of paper. Those he would carry too. He would never forget them but he would never speak them. Words of frustration and crushing failure. Angry words from a soul burdened by duty.

There had been no warning. The ultimate self control. A brother who rarely shared his innermost feelings and did his utmost to hide or train away his weaknesses. A brother who had simply walked out one day with an odd look on his face and never come home.

It suddenly occurred to Raph. If he told them that Karai had done this there would be talk of revenge. They would expect him to be thirsty for it. But there was no one to blame except perhaps ... No. He wouldnt follow that train of thought or he wouldnt be able to look his father in the eye ever again. Could he tell them Leo had slipped? He didn't think they'd believe it. But if he told them it was his fault... that he had rushed out and left Leo open. He could take the blame. Anything... anything to stop them from knowing the truth.

_Leo is dead_. The stars twinkled. A siren wailed somewhere. Down the street, people laughed loudly, oblivious.

_Leo is dead._ The moon shone indifferently.

_Leo is dead. _ Even after repeating it dozens of times he was no closer to comprehending the enormity of his loss. No closer to the truth of it. Until he found his strength, he couldn't move. So he just stood there, trying to understand but not to feel.

_Leo, are you happy now?_

It came to him then, through the pain. A distant sense. _Sadness ... Regret ... _The faintest touch of a hand on his shoulder.

It was too much! Raphael's pain imploded without warning and the crushing weight was more than he could bear. He staggered, landing on his knees, struggling to breath past the agony!

'_You fucking bastard, Leo! Damn right you made a mistake_!' His anguished whisper rose to a scream of fury. '_Do you hear me Leo? You fucking coward! Fuck you!'_ He collapsed on the roof, sobbing, the shattering truth more than he could stand.

'_Leo ... goddammit ... come back ... please, Leo ... please ...' _Raphael curled into a ball on the cement and cried. There was nothing else he could do.

It was too late for anything else.


End file.
